


The Long Way Around - Seven Seasons Through Miller's Eyes

by FrozenMemories



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25514044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenMemories/pseuds/FrozenMemories
Summary: Based on a tumblr post asking to "listen to Miller’s inner monologue during the last 7 seasons."This is Miller's journey from the Ark to the end.I'm keeping this as canon compliant as possible while adding some headcanons about Miller's past and his relationships with most of the other characters. Includes canon character deaths and spoilers for almost every episode at some point, in case you need to be warned.
Relationships: Background Harper McIntyre/Zoe Monroe, Bryan/Nathan Miller, Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 9
Kudos: 11





	1. Our Journey To The Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stormkpr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkpr/gifts).



Boy, does it suck in here! It’s not bad enough that I was born on a space station, raised on recycled air and water, sharing two-room “family quarters” with my parents, no – I had to get myself locked up in the skybox of all places. Juvie prison, because it’s illegal to float kids under the age of eighteen.

Guess Mr. Dunham was right when he told us on our first day in 5 th grade: Now that we’re old enough to be held accountable for our actions the better half of us are going to end in lock-up. Or rather, the worse half of us.

Doesn’t help much to regret it now, there’s no chance in hell I’ll receive a pardon when they review me in three and a half months. Becoming a thief made me expendable, so it won’t be much of a surprise when they’ll decide it’s better to just float me. That gives me one hundred and five more fuckin’ days locked up in this cold and empty cell. They don’t call it the skybox for nothing. Well, at least I have a window; the view from here is kinda nice.

I miss Bryan. He deserves a better boyfriend than me, no matter how exciting he claims I am. How much he likes his  _ bad boy.  _ He’s a good one, I should have never dragged him into this. And still, seeing him every other week in the visitation lounge is the only thing I look forward to anymore. It’s not like I’m a quitter, I don’t have a death wish or anything, but I just can’t seem to care much anymore. This is totally unjust and I never understood our criminal justice system. Dad would have my hide if he heard me talk like this. I’m the exact opposite of everything he stands for. Head of the guard, he’s one of the most respected people up here and his son? His biggest disappointment.

To be fair, he’s been handling this with remarkable calm. No yelling, no accusations. I do see the pain in his eyes though, every time he visits. He’s had higher hopes for me. Which is laughable, seriously. What kind of a future has he been hoping for? Becoming a guard just like him, locking kids up in boxes and throwing everyone else out the airlock over trivialities?

Alright, stealing is bad, I get that, but people have been floated for less.

Take Harper and Monroe for example, all they did was sneak out to the hydroponic farm at night to get a little bit of alone time together. They didn’t break or steal anything, didn’t hurt a soul. At first I thought it would be cool to be in the box together, Harper has been my best bud since we were in preschool together. Us queer kids gotta stick together, right? But there isn’t really anything like “together” in this place. We get a few hours of school in every day, the only social contact apart from visitation hours on Fridays. And what for? Do I need an education where I’m going? Far as I know I’ll stop breathing as soon as the outer doors open.

~

I don’t know what I was expecting. I heard stories about earth, I watched movies and read books, but I never dared to dream I’d ever see it. Experience it.

Everything happened much too fast to wrap my head around it. And suddenly I was strapped into a seat of the drop-ship with nothing on me but the clothes I was wearing and no chance to say goodbye to anyone left behind.

I don’t remember much of the descent except for grabbing on to Harper’s hand and chewing on the insides of my bottom lip. I still feel the sore spot.

So here we are. None of the images I’ve ever seen, none of the lessons in  _ Earth Skills  _ – even the ones I didn’t sleep through – could have prepared us for what Earth actually feels like. The smell of fresh air and trees and greens on the ground. I don’t know how to describe those first deep breaths that weren’t tainted by the ever present tang of metal and ventilated air.

And the sounds. The absence of that dulling whirr of engines from the ark that had become so second nature I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to not hear it anymore. Instead there is a sharp rustle of wind through leaves, the distant gurgle of a river, and the excited exclamations of a hundred free spirits catching their first glimpse of life on the ground.

We’ve set up camp and built a fire and I can feel the sharp press of Harper’s chin digging into my shoulder as she leans into me from behind.

“Isn’t this exciting?” she asks and shakes me until I can’t help but crack a smile.

It is.

~

My dad’s always told me I’m smart, that I have good instincts for people. So here I am accessing our group of delinquents. There really aren’t strangers or unfamiliar faces when you grow up on a space station with limited space for public mingling. I’ve grown familiar with some of the others during lock-up. But apart from Harper I wouldn’t call any of them my friends. I’m smart, remember, that also means I’m leery of people.

There is one guy, Bellamy, whose face I haven’t seen before. He’s older than all of us. I don’t think that makes him any wiser, or more fit to become a leader, but he seems to know what he’s talking about and he has the air of command around him. I haven’t met him in person back on the ark but everyone’s familiar with the story of the girl under the ground – and he’s the big brother who helped hide her.

The only pair of siblings ever heard of on our station. And their mother got floated just for having them. I wonder why Bellamy didn’t get punished for concealing her crime, for not reporting his mother and sister. Yeah, that would have been inexplicably cruel, but that’s the ark for you, am I right?

Anyway, Bellamy sure seems the only one around here (except for the obnoxious Griffin girl, daughter of councilor and station Doc) and with somewhat of a plan. He wants to rule things and I guess I better get on his good side, see that I can make myself useful, if I want to make it down here. Alliances will be what keeps us alive and you better choose your allies carefully.

~

It’s hell down here at times. Our numbers are dwindling fast. And it’s not just the grounders hunting us down, danger lurks even within our own ranks. There’s fighting and scheming going on and in the midst of it Jaha Jr. got killed.

It’s easy, too easy, to find a suitable suspect. John Murphy. I’ve never particularly liked the guy, but I’ve always appreciated his dry sarcasm. I sat next to him through a lot of boring school sessions, both of us being the  _ last row  _ type of person, even though I guess our reasons for that differ slightly. I’m not familiar with his particulars but I know he’s lost his father at a young age and his mother not too long after that. I can relate to some of the anger and pain that fuels him. Still, cold blooded murder wasn’t in the realm of what I’d thought him capable of.

The ground has changed us, though, all of us. I wouldn’t put it past anyone to kill just to survive. It’s a thought that admittedly scares me, and I haven’t voiced it aloud, not even around Harper. We can’t afford any weaknesses down here. That means we also can’t afford leniency. There is no trial or group decision on what we’re going to do with a murderer – on the ark he would have been floated, down here someone decides he’s going to be hanged.

A lot is happening within a short span of time. There is a brutal display of exactly the thing I was afraid of: The unleashed fire of a wild mob, unguided, angry and scared. I’ve stood back when a group of boys started beating all of their frustration into Murphy’s defenseless body and I’m holding my breath while they string him up on a tree.

There’s a sickening twist in my stomach, I can’t bear to watch the grueling display but can’t take my eyes away, either. He claims he didn’t do it, didn’t kill Wells, and a part of me wonders what if he’s telling the truth. Instead of stepping up for him I steel my shoulders and stare at the thin rope he’s hanging from, unable to watch his struggling form.

What happens next shocks all of us. The youngest of our group, the girl nobody paid any mind to before, screams through the commotion of shouting and whooping, screams that it was her who killed Wells. It should feel more shocking that a girl of twelve is capable of such a ruthless act. I feel sorry for her, but such sentiments have no place on the ground.

As soon as Murphy is cut loose he demands we treat her to the same sentence and maybe he’s right and we should. But she’s a traumatized kid, eyes wide and dark and full of fear. I can’t blame Clarke for trying to protect her.

We’re not savages. We should be better than this.

I’m not following the group that chases after Murphy and the guys who try to find Charlotte and execute revenge – or justice, as they call it. Instead I stay back at camp and pretend not to be fazed by any of this.

Harper is huddled close by the firelight, talking to Monroe and Sterling, no doubt having a debate on our ethics. She glances over at me a few times and I’m tempted to follow the invitation of her sad little smirk. I throw her a faint smile in response and turn to one of our outlooks. No matter what’s going on at camp there are still grounders out in these woods.

It’s late by the time Bellamy and Clarke return with the others to tell that Charlotte has jumped off a cliff and Murphy was banished for driving her to it. Everyone is gathered around them as they grace us with a speech on heroism and morale, rules and laws and justice.

Something in Clarke’s words gets to me and I blink away a tear before anyone can catch sight of it. I broaden my stance and press my heels firmly into the ground. If this is what we’ve become then these are the rules I’ll play by. In the end it’s all just a matter of surviving and I’ll be damned if I can’t handle that.

~

My strategy of playing the tough guy has earned me the respect of Bellamy, who’s still acting like he runs this show. He’s recruited me into his inner circle before I even had the chance to work my way up the ladder. I’m basically becoming one of his most trusted guards – an honor I’m more than willing to live up to. It’s been a while since someone put this much faith in me. I have a suspicion it has to do with him having heard rumors about me and Bryan, making me less likely to try and get into Octavia’s pants – after Atom he doesn’t trust anyone not to have ulterior motives about his sister. But whatever his initial reasons may be, I’ll be sure to make the best of it.

Octavia is a handful indeed. Gorgeous, too – I’m not blind on that eye. But more than that she’s fierce and she doesn’t want (or need) her brother’s overprotection. If Bellamy wants it though, I’ll keep an eye out for her regardless.

~

As it turned out Octavia is much more than just a handful. She’s sneaky, smart and incredibly resourceful for a girl who spent most of her life hidden underneath the floor with only two people aware of her existence. It didn’t take long for her to disappear (thankfully not on my watch) and Bellamy moved Heaven and Earth to find her. He ordered me to stand guard at camp while he ventured out to the woods with a search party.

At first I was disappointed that he didn’t take me along but when they return, three of them dead and one severely wounded, I’m kind of glad he kept me on easy duty.

He does however assign me and Drew to keep watch of the grounder he rescued his sister from.

Our captive is impressively built and exudes a sense of danger despite being tied at all four ends, beaten and bruised. There is something about his stance, his utter strength, that is both menacing and fascinating. I marvel at his tattoos, a wild array of tribal ink, and all of his battle scars that speak of a life spent fighting. Killing. I remind myself not to see him as a person but a killer. He’s the enemy and his people are trying to wipe us out.

I suppress the urge to flinch when Bellamy starts belting him while Clarke desperately tries to get him to talk. I don’t see either of their strategies working out, the man seems stoically committed to his silence.

It’s torturous to watch them torment him.

I grit my teeth when Bellamy rams a dagger right through the grounder’s palm – and he doesn’t even make much of a sound. I wish he would just give them what they’re asking for. It’s one thing to interrogate a prisoner of war, but another to inflict such torture on him. I might feel different if they were getting any results at all, but this just seems gruesome and pointless.

I’m seriously debating if I should stop them. This is not how I was raised.

But then I think about Finn, whose life is on the line here. Why can’t the bastard just point to the right fuckin’ flask?

It takes the wrath of Raven, the last person on Earth I’d want to make my enemy, to get as much as a scream from him. She’s shocking him with electrical cords and not even that is making him crack.

Octavia is the one who puts an end to the suffering. Again, I admire her bravery. She puts her own life on the line by cutting herself with the poisoned blade and straight out looks him in the eye, begging him not to let her die. Looks like the savage has a heart after all. I can’t believe how easily he gives her the answer violence couldn’t drag out of him.

Once everybody scampers off I’m left alone with the grounder and my conscience.

I shiver under his cold stare for a moment, then try to make myself bigger. I’ve always been strong, scored points in PE and I take pride in the muscles I’ve worked hard to build. But I’m not exactly tall or threatening, so I have to make up for that with expression and posture.

He doesn’t seem impressed.

He looks tired and worn, battered and bruised, and still he stands his ground. I have nothing to gain here though, so I decide to just leave him be for a while and sit in a corner with my thoughts.

Time stretches endlessly and I’m unsettled by the eerie silence that fills the upper deck of the drop ship. It could have been five minutes, as well as half an hour, before I hear boots hitting the rungs of the ladder that leads up here.

Clarke comes in, with her detached attitude, ready to play doctor. She pulls the dagger from his hand and attempts to clean his wounds but he stoically refuses her treatment.

I watch as Octavia appears behind her, taking over. His attitude instantly changes. There are some really heavy vibes going on between the two of them that I’m not sure Bellamy is aware of. It’s almost sensual, the way they communicate with their eyes. It makes me feel sick to my stomach to watch him display such gentleness. We’ve dehumanized these people from the moment of first contact, judging them based on their unwelcoming fight first attitude and disregarding their ability for empathy or goodness of heart.

But were we any better? Certainly not toward them.

This train of thought is dangerous. He is still the same person who almost killed Finn. Just because he thinks Octavia is hot doesn’t mean he won’t try to kill any of us the first chance he gets.

I can’t hear what Octavia is telling him, her voice is hushed below her breath. It makes me ache for someone to be close with and I grit my teeth to swallow down the memories immediately trying to surface. Instead I focus closer on the strangely attractive twosome in front of me, straining to make out what Octavia says. That’s when I hear the grounder’s voice.

“Did he just say something?” I ask, grateful for the excuse to get up and away from my spiraling thoughts. She tells me no and I let it slide, though not without asking her to leave.

There’s an inexplicable heaviness weighing me down when I slowly move back to my place by the way. I slide down the wall while my eyes are focused on him being forced to remain standing in the same position we’ve put him in hours ago.

~

Meanwhile the nerds downstairs have managed to establish communication with the Ark. Everybody will get the chance to talk to their parents – well, everybody who still has any. It hasn’t fully registered yet that I’ll get to see dad, if only on screen, but I’m scared. What am I supposed to say? What is he going to think of me when he finds out what Earth has turned us into?

I’ve been informed there’s already a planned schedule for who will get on the screen when. I’m tasked to be the bearer of bad news, oh joy. I don’t know why Clarke deemed me the right person for the job when she’s very well capable of doing it herself, but what can I do.

Talking to John Mbege’s parents, letting them know how and when their son died – was murdered – demands more of me than I would have expected. So much for being the tough guy. I’m seething with a deeply rooted sense of anger I can’t seem to place. John was a friend and his parents were so devastated they cried for the full five minutes we’ve been assigned to talk.

And I haven’t even spoken to my own dad yet.

The relief of ending that conversation is still flooding through me and I don’t mind being back on grounder watch for now. Bellamy is giving him the silent treatment when I enter the upper deck.

He thanks me for talking to the other parents and just the fact that it’s something that has to be done makes me seethe with anger again.

I force myself to stay calm so I don’t sound as distraught as I feel when I reproach him for what his people have done to us. Before I can process what’s happening he’s head butting me, hard.

My head is still hurting when they call me down again to talk to Roma’s parents.

~

When it’s finally my own turn, after having told four sets of parents that their children haven’t made it, I’m stone cold and anxious. I stare at the empty chair on the screen and breathe.

And suddenly he’s right there.

“Nate,” he says, his voice so familiar it makes my resolve crumble and my eyes well up.

My hand moves up to slide the beanie off my head and I meet his warm eyes with an aching in my heart that I haven’t experienced since we had the memorial ceremony for mom four years ago.

“Dad,” I manage to croak out, yearning like nothing else to reach out and let him wrap me up in his arms. My fingers tighten around the knitted fabric, twisting into the holes with unease.

He seems as speechless as I am, so we just stare at each other for what feels like a small eternity. What is there to say, really? Too much has happened to fit it all into five minutes, on both ends of the line.

“Are you alright, son?” he finally asks.

I shrug. I wish I could tell him. But it’s all bottled up and if I open that lid – a video call will never be enough.

“I’m good,” I tell him, barely recognizing my own quiet voice.

He nods and his hand comes up as if he’s going to touch it to my neck, the way he does when he has no verbal way of offering comfort, the way he did when they hauled me off to the skybox.

~

Talking to my dad had stirred up so many feelings and memories and I’m having a really hard time trying to shove them all back under a lid. I’m grateful for the semi-solitude of sharing the drop ship with just our grounder captive. He’s blissfully silent and I don’t try to level my frustration at him this time.

I’m not even sure it’s anger I feel.

The situation down here sucks for sure, fearing for my life, the lives of my friends. Nothing is for sure, nowhere is safe. And still – I don’t feel angry, or helpless. Not anymore. Seeing dad has left me strangely melancholic but also really calm and reassured. In a few days he’ll come down, along with a full crew and equipment to help keep us safe. That’s something to hold out hope for.

I inwardly groan when I hear feet hitting the rung up the ladder, I was just getting comfortably settled.

As soon as I see it’s Octavia I tell her to get out, Bellamy’s orders were clear. She comes with a peace offering, though. I don’t remember the last time I ate; between talking to the Ark and watching the grounder my mind really wasn’t focused on food. She throws me a little parcel and tells me to relax – “he really isn’t worth it.”

That’s not what it looked like the other day, but I’m too exhausted to question her.

With my eyes on the prisoner I lean back and keep stuffing the nuts Octavia gave me into my mouth. I don’t even know why we call them nuts, they’re really soft and squishy. More like berries maybe. Not that I’ve ever been any good at plantology or whatever they call it when you know lots of stuff about plants and Earth skills and anyway my bag is empty and my stomach growls. I should eat more. Maybe Octavia can get me more nutberries. They’re soft, like her. She’s really nice. Like, really nice. She gave me food.

She’s my only friend and now she’s gone and I’m all alone here with our prisoner. Maybe he wants to be my friend? I should ask- “Dad?”

Dad looks at me like he doesn’t recognize my face. He’s tied up and looks like he’s been beaten. What the hell have these animals done to him? I hope he hasn’t suffered brain damage.

“It‘s me,” I tell him, in a voice I hope reassures him. “Say something, dad. What happened to you?”

I move to untie his retrains, heavy safety belts that are twisted around his wrists. They’re tied too tightly, I can’t pry them apart.

“Hold on, dad, I’m here now,” I tell him while I frantically pull at the knots. “I’m so sorry, dad,” I mutter between curses, “What have they done to you? You’ll be alright, I got you.”

I can’t get the fucking restraints out of the way.

A hand lands on my hand, gentle and soothing.

“Here, let me.”

It’s Octavia. She’s so beautiful and if I didn’t have a boyfriend I could just kiss her for being such a wonderful friend. Always looking out for me.

“Go find him a blanket,” she says, pointing to a cabinet on the other side of the room. “I’ll take care of him, don’t worry.”

I walk to where she sent me and start searching. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore. I rarely look for anything in particular; I steal for the thrill of it, not for the loot. There’s nothing of value here anyway, but I hear voices so I better hurry up. There’s an old pocket watch that I quickly grab and shove into my sleeve before I quickly shut the drawers and crouch into a corner to hide from the voices I heard.

I might give the watch to Bryan, he likes this kind of antique stuff. We’ve watched an old movie once with cowboys and horses and somebody had a watch like that and he said it looked real fancy.

I can just picture his smile when I surprise him with it.

I close my eyes at the thought. I haven’t seen him in too long, the skybox really sucks, doesn’t it? I lean against the headboard of my bunk bed and kick at the covers in frustration. This place is giving me a headache. Maybe some sleep will help, there isn’t really much else to pass the evenings with in lock up anyway.

~

When I open my eyes everything stings. I feel hungover even though I didn’t drink. I squint my eyes into the dim light of the drop ship and look around for my water canteen when it hits me like the shock of a baton: The grounder is gone.

I almost fall down the ladder in my haste to rush outside.

“He’s gone! The grounder is gone!” I shout across camp, not giving a second thought to why everybody’s still milling around instead of catching some shut eye.

While everyone is starting to worry about the escape of our prisoner I’m feeling sort of relieved. I honestly can’t say how serious I was about wanting to kill him, but I certainly didn’t feel up to taking care of it myself. I’m glad the decision is taken from us, even though we have no way of knowing when he’ll be back with his army.

I don’t even have time to worry about Bellamy’s reaction as he steps up all calm and collected.

“Let the grounders come, we’ve been afraid of them for far too long,” he announces and proceeds to show us what he and Clarke have found while they were gone: A full arsenal of guns.

~

After an inspirational speech by Clarke and Bellamy it was decided that we’d to start shooting practice in the morning, so here we are. The idea is that everybody gives it a try. The best target shooters will take the others under their wings and hopefully help them improve fast.

I’ve never held a gun in my hands but I’m getting the hang of it real quick. I always had great hand eye coordination; it’s what helped me become a quick-fingered thief.

I end up training a group of fifteen others, showing them how to level their guns and how to breathe to keep calm and hold their weapons steady. In order to preserve ammunition we practice with blanks Raven built.

By the time Unity Day rolls around I’ll have my recruits good and ready to fight. Let the grounders come, alright.

~

It’s pretentious to listen to Jaha’s Unity Day speech while we’re down here, preparing for a grounder attack.

We do it anyway, because it’s tradition. Many of the faces around me are drained and tired and lined with fear. This celebration, this little piece of tradition, rekindles them with hope.

And then there’s booze – our homegrown version of it at least.

It’s nice to see everybody letting loose and being happy for a change. Forget about the looming danger. I’m throwing back a shot or two myself, but I’m on night duty – ever since the grounder left and I’ve become a gunner I’ve been occupying the outposts instead of watching our prisoner inside the drop ship. I can’t say if it’s a real glow up or just a switch of assignments, but it sure feels better to stand guard with a weapon in my hand.

I watch Harper getting tipsy. She’s starting to get touchy-feely with Monroe again. I still don’t fully understand their relationship and from the looks of it neither do they. Monroe, who’s proven to be a natural at long range shooting, is refraining from the drinks as well, and her reactions to Harper’s advances seems dismissive, at least from where I’m standing.

I let my gaze sweep the woods, watching out for the enemy, then turn my attention back to camp.

Even Clarke is participating in a drinking game until Finn starts spoiling her fun. Something about the guy is so damn weird. From what I’ve gathered he had his chances with our precious princess but made a choice to stay with Raven, and still he won’t leave Clarke alone. I don’t understand why either of them would make a choice in his favor but maybe that’s just me.

I take another peer out into the dark woods – there really isn’t much to see. I doubt, even with their knowledge of the terrain, that the grounders would attack us in the middle of the night, but one can never be sure.

A cracking sound draws my attention, boots on leaves and twigs. I squint against the darkness until I can make out two figures, taking cover behind a broad trunk – their shapes are familiar and I crack a smile when I realize what’s happening. It’s Harper pressing Monroe against a tree, hands in each other’s hair. Good for them. I blink away images of Bryan. He’s gone and I have other things to focus on. But my heart feels heavy with grief.

Maybe I shouldn’t have had those drinks earlier.

~

I’ve quickly gotten used to waking on the hard ground, surrounded by camp sounds. That doesn’t mean I don’t hate how it makes my back hurt with stiffness. I’m grateful for the night watch though; it leaves me with a kind of exhaustion that lets me sleep through whatever commotion is going on outside.

The moment I crawl out of the tent I know something is wrong.

The first person I see is Monty, who pulls a solemn face. On my inquiry he informs me Clarke and Bellamy are gone, Finn and Raven along with them. Whatever they’re up to I sure hope they know what they’re doing. I have a bad feeling when Monty adds that they took Jasper as back up. The guy is a huge nerd but doesn’t really know his way around guns. What the hell was Bellamy thinking not waking me up?

Maybe he’s still pissed at me for letting the grounder escape.

My memories of last night are still a blur but it seems the nuts we ate have hallucinogenic effects. None of the things I’ve seen – not that I remember a lot – have been real. I may well have cut the bounds loose myself for all I know. I’ve wisely kept that suspicion to myself but it’s nagging at my conscience, making me wonder if Bellamy’s behavior toward me is justified.

There’s no use in making myself crazy over it, though. I can figure that shit out once Bellamy is back.

The day passes agonizingly slow and my plan of pushing my thoughts away does not come to fruition at all. Instead thinking is all I can do. I really wish the others had taken me on their trip – nobody knows where they went to and that is slightly unsettling.

It’s not like there isn’t plenty to do around here, even in the absence of our self-proclaimed leaders and without any prisoners to mind day and night I can busy myself sufficiently. I’m helping Derek and Jolene repair a hole in our outer fence that someone has drunkenly stumbled into last night. It takes the better part of the day and before I know it we’re watching the sun go down behind the treetops.

~

There’s something mesmerizing about the way fire crackles and dances around the thick branches we keep feeding it with. Even after a month of utilizing it for warmth and light and to prepare and preserve food I haven’t gotten tired of the atmosphere it provides. I’m inclined to say that campfires are the best damn thing about Earth. I might change my mind should we ever get out of these woods and find a nice strip of beach somewhere.

I’m so caught up in the flames I don’t hear Harper approach until she flops down next to me.

She starts talking about her mom and what the chances are that she’ll get to have a space on the Exodus ship. I should feel privileged that the guard is safe to be sent down here. I really want to see my dad.

“What about Bryan?” She asks and I feel myself tense up immediately. I really wish he was here but I won’t allow myself to get my hopes up yet. There are probably a lot of people deemed more important than some random boy from Farm Station.

“Miller?”

I shake my head and get up, leaving her sitting by the fire.

I’m not sure why I’m surprised when she doesn’t follow me but there’s no time to mull over it.

“Look!” “What’s that?” “Oh my God!”

The jumble of voices makes me turn around and lift my gaze skywards, up to where everyone else is looking and pointing. There’s something coming down from the Ark, I can’t make out the shape but Monty, who suddenly stands next to me, exclaims: “That’s the Exodus ship!”

I have a very strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s too early, something is off.

“It’s going way too fast,” Monty says, so quietly I think he didn’t even realize he voiced his thought.

I watch in stunned silence. I have no idea what it’s supposed to look like coming down but he’s right, the ship does seem to tumble way too fast and without course.

It still takes a while for it to drop; a strange sensation between slow motion and fast forward, and we can all just watch helplessly as the distant shape accelerates toward the Earth.

My stomach drops when I see the giant fireball of an explosion in the distance. There’s not a chance that anyone aboard survived that.

My dad was going to be on that ship.

I think I said that aloud because Monty puts a comforting hand on my arm.

It doesn’t comfort me at all. I feel my weight dropping before I realize I’m moving and then I’m sitting on my ass, staring blankly ahead.

~

When the others return Clarke announces they’ll be heading out for the crash site at first light. Bellamy asks if I want to come along but I don’t think I want to see the wreckage. I’ll stay at camp, keep training the others on how to shoot and prepare for the grounders’ act of retaliation.

I’m still a little out of it when I take position at the watch post and get ready for the night shift. I haven’t gotten any sleep last night and spending the day with nothing much but target practice has left me exhausted.

“You okay?” Monroe asks from across a few feet. I give her a shrug. “My dad was supposed to be on the exodus ship,” I don’t know why I tell her. My eyes well up and my voice sounds weak but it somehow feels necessary to say it, make it real. Everybody’s been talking about it all day, making it so much harder for me to avoid thinking about it, but now that I could finally savor the quiet I feel it soar beneath the surface.

She offers me a simple sorry, nothing more.

There’s comfort in her silence though. No pressure but the offer of companionship in the smallest hint of a smile.

I nod at her in thanks.

I’m almost certain our conversation is over when she speaks again, softly, “Remember that meteor shower Clarke told us was a funeral? My foster-dad was one of the 300 who sacrificed their lives. I just found the other day out from Harper’s mom.”

I look up at her in surprise.

“It’s not the same, I know.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, “We don’t need to categorize our losses.”

With a nod she agrees.

“So you and Harper?” I have to change the topic but leave the question hanging, not sure how much she’s willing to share, if anything. Monroe’s never been the talkative kind.

She shrugs.

“It’s different down here.”

Silence settles between us again, her statement giving us both something to mull over in our own heads, until a sound disrupts the night – someone’s triggered the trip wire.

We quickly distribute to cover the grounds and it doesn’t take long for Octavia, Connor and Derek to return. I’m shocked to see who they’ve brought back to camp: It’s Murphy, so brutally battered I barely recognize his face.

We take him to the drop ship to find out what happened to him but he doesn’t really talk. In Bellamy’s absence Octavia takes it upon herself to take over, ordering the others around and offering Murphy some water. I let her. Whoever roughed him up like that was definitely more thorough that we were with Octavia’s grounder.

I step outside to resume my watch just in time to meet the others at the gate when they return. Bellamy is seething when I relay the news to him and I choose not to follow as he and Clarke all but storm into the drop ship.

~

While I’m impressed that Murphy managed to survive on his own, a part of me wishes he hadn’t. It doesn’t take long for us to regret having let him go, because what seemed to be a lucky escape on his side turned out to be a calculated plan to weaken our camp. Murphy’s been infected with some kind of virus that is quickly spreading around camp. And I was one of the first people he had contact with.

Clarke is in full doctor modus already, ordering us to isolate, even though half of us haven’t even shown any symptoms.

Yet.

The infection, whatever it is, seems to affect almost all of us at the same time and I’m glad I’m already in our makeshift sick bay when it catches up with me.

I’ve never liked being sick but this bleeding from my eyes business is a whole new level of crazy. I haven’t felt this bad since I had to suffer through a bad case of alcohol poisoning from a batch of home-brewed moonshine.

Blissful times.

Now there’s a disease going around that has taken lives already and is weakening all of us. It’s spreading fast and it’s scary as shit. I’ve never puked blood before.

Harper, despite not looking too peachy herself, is dabbing my forehead with a wet cloth and whispering words of reassurance to me. If I could lift my arms I’d hug her. But I’m too weak for even that.

I’m determined to fight, though. I haven’t survived this many obstacles just to die in a bloody pool of barf. Some of us are already doing better, so this is not a death sentence for all of us.

~

I’ve recovered from the sickness as rapidly as I was incapacitated by it. I’m back with a gun in my hand as soon as I can manage to get up. There’s no time for resting when all hell is breaking loose here. Those grounders are bat shit crazy, they’re hunters – assassins – and from what Octavia tells us there’s an entire army of them coming for us.

I won’t lie and pretend I’m not scared, but this is the most excitement I’ve ever had in my life.

We camp under the open skies, guarding our camp with age old weapons we found in an abandoned bunker. There’s insects crawling around everywhere, on our food and across our beds. We survive on anything we can hunt and find in the woods just to survive. We think of ourselves as scavengers, explorers, adventurers, but really we’re just a bunch of out of control teenagers with guns who accidentally started a war with an enemy they don’t know nearly enough of. You’d think it sucked down here – away from our families and the life we used to know – but I feel more alive than I ever have. I’m more determined than I’ve been since I’ve been arrested and locked up.

This is my life now, my chance to start over.

Who knew I’d become a soldier one day, dad sure would love that.

~

Bellamy is right. This is still better than the skybox. Better than living in a rotating tin can you can’t ever step out of.

However small our chances of making it really are, if against all odds we can defeat the grounders I’m so ready to make it out of these woods and see what else Earth has to offer.

That thought is what I cling to, what sticks with me when the army of grounders is closing in on us. Arrows and spears are flying through the air. Our improvised versions of grenades firing alongside bullets and rocks and anything we can find to defend ourselves.

The rifle is weighing heavy in my arms, yet carrying it feels liberating, empowering. It’s a rush nothing on the ark could ever give me, not even being with Bryan. Okay, that’s bad thoughts; I gotta pull my shit together.

Clarke is yelling at Bellamy and I have to focus on aiming for the right targets. There’s smoke everywhere and it’s getting harder to see.

She waits until the last possible moment but Bellamy and Finn don’t make it to the ramp in time. I watch Clarke pull the lever from the corner of my eyes, while still relentlessly shooting at the invading grounders, and then the drop ship door closes.

Time stretches and blurs and suddenly the shockwave of Raven’s kerosene explosion rattles the floor around us.

My knees are shaking and I’m not sure if what I’m wiping from my eyes is really just sweat. When I dare to take a look around I can’t help but cringe at the fact that this is only about half the number of delinquents who landed on the ground with us.


	2. Welcome to Mount Weather

An actual med bay is the last place I would have expected to wake up in after we were taken. I have no recollection of anything past the drop ship door opening. There was so much smoke and then everything just blanked out.

A first assessment of my surroundings tells me I’m inside solid walls, in a real bed, something with white sheets and a pillow under my head. I’m hooked up on what I assume is an IV line pumping me with meds. I’m not ungrateful. If I remember correctly I got stabbed in the gut real good during the battle at our camp. The specifics are hazy but I’m sure without the stuff that’s making me feel woozy I’d be in a hell of a lot of pain.

Glancing sideways makes me nauseous but seeing Alexis to my left and Fox to my right, both breathing steadily, calms my initial fears. If some of us are alive, maybe others have made it, too.

A nurse appears by my side, checking my vitals and giving me a curt but encouraging smile. He’s cute, reminds me of Bry- Anyway, he’s scribbling down something on a chart and adjusts my IV line, then steps back and smiles again.

“Welcome to Mount Weather.”

Seems like that’s all he has to say and I’m too drugged up to speak at all. My tongue feels like a giant cotton swab and all I can do is watch him walk on to the next bed, Alexis’, and check on him, too. My vision blurs and I can feel myself slipping back into darkness.

~

When I wake again things feel a little clearer. I’m still heavily medicated; I can literally feel the fog swirl inside my brain. I glance to my right, where Fox is – gone.

I think my pulse is picking up a bit, at least the monitor next to my bed indicates some kind of a change with its shrill beeping.

A moment later a woman appears by my side. She’s wearing a white coat, the kind doctors on old Earth TV shows used to wear.

“I’m Dr. Singh,” she introduces herself. I blink and nod. “I’m Miller,” I want to tell her but nothing comes out of my throat except a croaked sound.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” she soothes and begins to explain how I was found along the other Sky people in the woods. She lists my injuries and the measures they have taken. My head is spinning with words I’ve never heard before but the gist of it is I’ve been operated on twice and will need a third procedure in a couple days, when my body’s had some time to recover. She promises I’ll be fine and since there’s nothing else I can do I decide to believe her.

Later that day the nurse returns, and so does my voice. I ask for his name but he’s not very chatty. Tells me to call him Daniel and offers me a plate of food. It’s some kind of stew that looks rather plain but tastes surprisingly good. Definitely better than our rations of dried boar, roots and bitter wild berries.

I must have gone without food for at least two days and when I’m done I’m both blissfully sated and slightly sick.

I ask Daniel about my friends while he tends to another patient, who isn’t one of us.

“They’re safe from the savages,” he offers, “You’ll get to see them soon.”

I close my eyes and sigh. I doubt that one’s going to become a friend of mine.

~

When I’m finally reunited with the others I’m surprised by the peaceful calm. Maya, the nurse who actually talked to me every now and then, leads me to the dormitory where everyone is quietly bustling around. It’s so strange to see them all in these old fashioned outfits. I feel like someone threw me into a movie. Everyone looks clean and unmarred, too.

Well, not  _ everyone. _

There are 48 of us who made it to Mount Weather, Monty explains as he leads me to the bunk bed they’ve reserved for me.

Forty-eight – the number dances around in my head. That’s less than half of us. “What about the others?” I ask and Monty’s face tells me I don’t want the answer to that. I vaguely remember Finn and Bellamy fighting outside the drop ship and Monty confirms the sickening suspicion I’ve had in the pit of my stomach: They didn’t make it. The Mountain Men have swept up anyone they could find, we are the sole survivors. 

Harper’s face pales when she mentions Monroe and Monty can’t even look at either of us at the sound of Raven’s name. So many of them gone. But 48 of us have made it, are safe from the grounders and the harsh Earth nights. That’s a straw to grasp onto. Harper gives me a weak smile before she leans in and pulls me into a hug. It isn’t much but it feels so good to have this bit of physical contact with someone I truly care about.

~

My first impression of the mess hall is overwhelming. The Ark was so sterile, the commissary blank and impersonal. This place is everything the Ark never was: Warm, welcoming and full of chatter and music. There is art on the walls and an abundance of food on the long tables. The walls are made of concrete, but you hardly notice the grey shine through in the warm glow of yellow lightning. I sit down for my first dinner outside the medical facility and it’s so much better than what they served me there.

I could get behind the idea of making this our permanent residence.

Clarke of course has to be the one to spoil the party. I’m worried about the way she keeps stirring up trouble. She’s resisting these people’s help as if they are the enemy. As if they didn’t save our lives and take us in without asking for anything in return but to stay.

And yes, maybe that should make us question them, but really – who wants to be back in those woods, where acid fog and grounders are waiting to get us killed.

Jasper has adjusted already. He’s not cut out for the survival camp we’ve been sent to. And I think he’s developed a liking for Maya. He’s arguing with Monty and Clarke – again. They’ve been over the same question back and forth: To be cautious or grateful, to be compliant or rebellious.

They ask for my opinion and all I have to offer is we should sit it out and not stir a commotion. None of us has to suffer in here, we’re healthy and clean and cared for. We shouldn’t jeopardize it by acting up time and time again. Clarke’s arguments are persuasive, but I won’t risk getting kicked out of a place that offers us shelter and provisions.

Although I have to admit that I am cautious, too. I find it hard to ride Jasper’s unquestioning wave of enthusiasm. Sure, it’d be nice for these people to be as kind and giving as they claim to be and so far I’m getting settled just fine in my new, dapper shirts. Then again, this place does seem a little too good to be true. The people are just a little too accommodating. After the way the grounders welcomed us this was a nice change for sure. I can’t even begin to describe how good it felt to take a long, hot shower, scrub all that dirt and decay off my body. And to dress in fresh, clean clothes.

There are so many things I’ll never take for granted again, like sleeping without my boots on and having three warm meals a day. I’ll be the last to complain or be ungrateful, but as I said, something is off. It’s not just Clarke’s mistrust and her resolve to find a catch in this place.

I’ll stay alert for sure. But until I find something terribly wrong in here I’ll just enjoy the creature comforts this bunker has to offer.

~

Not long after our conversation in the dorm Clarke seems to have disappeared. Knowing her she’s snooping around somewhere, maybe even found her way out of here, back into the woods all by herself. I admire her guts and determination but what is she trying to archive all on her own? Get slashed by grounders? 

Jasper thinks she’s out there jeopardizing our safety while Monty is starting to sound a lot more suspicious than he was with Clarke still around. I feel marginally bad for kicking my shoes off and lounging in bed while they venture out, trying to press Maya for intel on the princess’s whereabouts. Whatever they’re going to find out – if they start causing trouble that gets us kicked out of here I might as well enjoy the place while it lasts.

~

I’m starting to think Clarke was right, there’s something off with this bunker and the people down here. Allegedly they’ve admitted Clarke to the psych ward for exhibiting self harming behavior. She sure seems crazy at times, but not the  _ lock her up in a loony bin  _ kind.

Jasper’s down at medical several times a day trying to get to see her but I have a feeling he’s just wasting his time. Then again, there isn’t much else to do in this place. As grateful as I was for the initial sense of safety, being cooped up in this dorm is getting a little suffocating. Life on the Ark has prepared us for small living spaces and little to no privacy but even in the skybox we didn’t have to share a cell between more than two people.

Here it’s almost impossible to escape socializing. Someone is always in the dorm, the mess hall is always filled with people and even though we were told we had free reign in this place it feels like we are under constant observation.

I can feel eyes on me wherever I go. Maybe it’s just the fact that we’re still strangers to these people, maybe we’re really just too sensitive after how the ground has greeted us, but I can’t shake the eerie vibes this place is starting to give me.

It doesn’t help when another containment breach alarm echoes through the hallways, just as Harper and I are on our way back to the dorm. Men in hazmat suits rush by us and when we reach the door to the dorm we find it sealed. I catch a glimpse of Maya’s face, contorted in fear and red with lesions. The sight is scary as hell and I’m grateful for Harper’s hand clutching at my arm, as it keeps me tethered in the reality of the moment.

~

Nobody will tell us what’s going on and we have to wait until sometime after breakfast for Jasper and Monty come back, both looking tired and worn. Not unlike Harper and me who’ve stayed up all night trying to convince ourselves they were okay. Jasper is a lot paler than usual and collapses on the bottom bunk right away.

“What the hell happened?” Harper voices both of our thoughts. Monty lets out a shuddering sigh before he tells us everything that happened. After finding out that Clarke indeed has found a way out of here, leaving us behind, Monty says he was good and ready to go after her. That’s apparently when the radiation breach happened and they spent all night with Maya in the medical ward where Dr. Tsing performed an experimental treatment on her, using Jasper’s blood.

I zone out when Monty explains the science, watching Jasper’s sunken face instead. He chooses that very moment to stir and coil over. With a look of near panic in his eyes he heaves himself off the bed and staggers toward the facilities. What the hell did they do to him?

Monty stops mid sentence and follows behind Jasper while Harper and I stare at each other in disbelief.

~

The puking lasts for days but Maya looks good as new when she comes by to check on Jasper. No sign of marred skin, nothing.

It’s remarkable and unprecedented the president tells Jasper personally. And then he asks for us to volunteer ourselves in order to help more of them out with these dialysis treatments.

I think it’s Jasper’s obvious feelings for Maya that have him so enthusiastic about giving our blood and risking our well-being for these people. I can’t really share the sentiment. Sure, they saved my life and I am thankful for that, but Jasper looked like shit when he came back from the procedure and I don’t see why I should place myself in the same situation when for years these people seemed to have been fine without us.

Harper agrees.

Not even Monty, the ultimate  _ good boy  _ of our group, is willing to stick out his neck for them – until Maya changes his mind.

Of all the scenarios, all the things that could possibly be wrong with this place, the truth would have never crossed my mind. It’s so surreal to think of these people  _ harvesting  _ the grounders, literally hanging them upside down and draining their blood for medical treatment. If Monty and Jasper hadn’t seen it with their own eyes I’m not sure I could have wrapped my mind around it.

And to think the ground sucked, and its inhabitants were evil…

~

Monty is hell-bent on convincing us all that Clarke will be back for us, but as the days go by I find it harder to have faith in that. For all we know we could be on our own down here.

Maya seems to be on our side, though. She’s the one who revealed the dark truth to us after all. The problem is there’s nothing we can do about it but try to buy us time and believe that Clarke was right all along, that maybe she found some of the others, that they’re not dead and that she’ll find a way to get us out of here.

It seems like a long shot but if there’s anyone who can it’s Clarke. She could probably break down these concrete walls with just the sheer power of her will.

And so our plan is simple: Cooperate and wait for our princess in shining armor. It sounded logical at first but now? I’m not so sure.

What the Mountain Men are doing to the grounders is gruesome and sickening. And now they want us for our blood and if we don’t volunteer we might be the next group hanging upside down from the ceiling of those harvesting chambers. There wasn’t even a choice.

The dialysis treatments suck. I’ve been puking my guts out for days, the others aren’t faring any better. We’re stuck in our dormitory, stacked in bunk beds, and even when I’m physically alright I can’t sleep because  _ someone  _ will always be on their way to the lavatory – if they’re lucky enough not to lose the contents of their stomachs right here on the floor.

After several days of going through the unpleasant treatments and their side-effects we decide to take measures into our own hands. There may not be much we can do, but the waiting is driving us crazy and the uncertainty is unsettling. What if Clarke doesn’t come for us? What if the president lied about her escaping the mountain? She might as well be dead.

And so we come to the conclusion that we have to do some digging of our own. 

~

Who knew being a picklock and a thief was one of the more valuable Earth skills? I wonder if dad would be proud if he knew I was using my criminal energy to save our asses instead of just getting me into trouble.

The bunker is impressively built and the security measures are high, I’ll have to give them that. It’s nothing a pair of clever hands and Monty’s sharp brain can’t defeat though. Soon we are in the president’s office, sifting through drawers and hacking our way into the computer system – well, Monty is.

There are a lot of documents on missile systems and I think I found a blueprint for the real structure of the mountain, when-

“They’re alive,” Monty states, his voice full of disbelief. I look up at the screen and can’t believe the images I see. The entire fucking ark came down; there are people everywhere, most of them wearing the guard uniform. How the hell is that even possible?

Against better judgment I dare to let a flicker of hope surge through me and scan the images for a familiar face. He isn’t there, of course. He was on the exodus ship.

But if Alpha Station is on the ground maybe others are, too. Neither Monty nor I are ready to say it out loud, but what about Farm Station? His parents. Bryan. I haven’t felt this energized in weeks. I’m determined more than ever to make it back out there.

~

Our initial spike of hope dies down when we realize Harper is missing. We can only imagine what they’re doing to her right now and it raises bile inside of me. I have a very awful feeling about this.

Monty suggests we hack into the Mountain’s radio channels and try to contact the Ark. It’s hard to focus while worrying about Harper but there’s nothing we can do about her right now and this at least feels like something – a plan of some kind to help get us out of here.

Between Maya, Monty and me we’ve managed to acquire the necessary stuff Monty needs to intersect the communication lines and we get to work right away. To be honest, Monty is the one doing all the hard work, I’m merely there to punch a hole in the wall. Not that it doesn’t feel cathartic to inflict damage on this place, but I can’t help feeling somewhat negligible next to Monty’s genius. I feel bad now for ever making fun of the nerds back in school, they really are the ones to save our asses in the end.

I don’t understand half of Monty’s tech babble but I do realize that those garbled sounds we’re hearing in the radio channel can’t mean anything good.

“I’ve heard this on the black box of the exodus ship, right before it crashed,” he muses and then he looks at me with wide eyes. “They crashed the exodus ship.”

I grit my teeth at the revelation. The Mountain people have killed my dad and now they’re jamming our people’s communication channels. Things are even worse than we expected.

~

Monty is gone. None of us have any idea how, when or where, but we all have a pretty vivid imagination. Between worrying about him and Harper and fearing for our own lives there isn’t much time to contemplate what’s going on outside. I refuse to let my thoughts go there, to wonder who may have made it after all, because without Monty our chances of ever getting a signal out to our people are slim to none. If Clarke’s not coming back for us this is gonna be it.

So much for ever seeing a beach.

The hardest part is the waiting.

There’s only so much we can do without fear of being discovered.

So we play cards under the pretense of being compliant while we blast old music from even older speakers and go over our minimized options.

I don’t sleep. I can’t. I see their faces every time I close my eyes. Harper. Monty. Dad. Bryan. Bellamy. Monroe. Hell, sometimes even Raven and Finn and Drew and Roma. I’ve never been good at being alone with my thoughts – that’s probably why I hated the skybox so much. But I’ve also never been good at sharing them, so I just take whatever distraction I can get to push the images as far away as possible.

~

I have no idea how Jasper did it, if it even was his doing, but Monty and Harper are back with us and the Mountain Men are willing to let us go. They don’t talk about what happened to them and I’m not sure I want to know anyway. Harper is in pretty bad shape and Monty just offers a very clipped report about them being locked up in a cage. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out though. Harper looks like a week of torture and I’m sure that’s exactly what went on.

Instead of dwelling on it we focus on the matter at hand: We are going to get out of here, so everybody moves to gather what little stuff we’ve acquired in here.

And then we wait. Again. I have a very bad feeling about the situation, Jasper still has faith in the president but with every minute that passes without anyone coming for us I feel more like this whole damn thing has been a scam.

~

I hate being right.

Instead of releasing us like Wallace promised they’ve locked us in our dorm with guards outside the door. Our only hope at this point is Jasper having caught a quick flash of what he is convinced was Bellamy in a guard uniform.

I want to riot, tear this whole damn place down, but we have absolutely nothing on us. No weapons, no tactical advantage. We’re stuck in a hole and what started out as a place of hope feels very much like a prison chamber now.

It’s making me antsy. I’m itching to hit someone, something. Kick down the walls, scream my way out of here.

But it’s all in the hands of Bellamy now – and Maya if we still trust her. That doesn’t feel too good.

~

They’re taking us one by one. They’re armed to the teeth and there is nothing we can do but form a line of resistance with our bare selves. It doesn’t stand a chance against their force. Every time they’re back for someone else we edge closer together, hold on just so much tighter. And every time they just snatch someone else out of our grasp.

Until there is a gun.

I still can’t believe that Bellamy is really here. We barely locked eyes for a second but it was enough to spark a new fire of determination in me. We arm ourselves with whatever we can find, rungs and poles from the bunk beds mostly. The next time they’re coming for us we will be prepared.

The battles continue all day – or night – I have no sense of time anymore. There’s chaos and violence and the events get a little blurred after something hits me hard in the back of the skull, but in the end we manage to take over the mess hall, where we’re building a forte that will hopefully buy us more time.

I’m still thrumming with adrenaline and more than ready to see this through to the end. Whatever happens, we are not giving up without a fight.

~

I’m surprised to find that in spite of what’s going on there are still people here who are willing to help us. Maybe I was wrong to judge them as a whole. Maya told us there were organized resistance movements going on inside the mountain, apparently for generations. Not everyone here agrees with the exploitive way of living the government has installed over the decades.

Maya’s dad and his friends divide us into small groups in order to hide us away. I’m staying with a nice family, people I haven’t met before. They offer me their daughter’s bed, while she stays in the room with her parents. It’s strange that these should be the nicest sleeping accommodations I’ve ever had since the ark, soft sheets in a room of my own. I lie awake all night, hoping and praying to escape from this nightmare.

~

In the early morning hours I hear a commotion outside. Dahlia, the girl whose room I’m in, comes hurrying in and seems relieved to find me awake.

“Quick, hide,” she hisses and jumps on the bed. I climb into the crawlspace behind her desk, that Dahlia’s father has shown me when I arrived hours before. The girl has just enough time to cover up and pretend to be asleep when the door flings open and two men with guns enter the room. I listen through the thin wall as they tear the place apart, searching for me and my friends. I hear Dahlia’s scared whimpering but she doesn’t give me up.

Gunshots ring in my ear and Dahlia’s voice cries out in despair.

The sound of her small body being slammed into the wall makes me sick. I don’t even want to try and imagine what they’re going to do with me but I can’t let them kill me for her bravery.

I kick the lid of my hideout away and crawl out, raising my hands.

“She didn’t know, come on, she’s just a little girl,” I plead to some remnants of humanity in the guards. They roughly grab me by the neck and drag me out of the room. My gaze falls on the two dead people who gave their lives trying to keep me safe, but at least the girl is still alive.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her, over and over again, as her whimpering fades away behind me.

~

I expected them to take me to the harvest chamber, lock me up like Monty and Harper, to prod at me for bone marrow or whatever they’re experimenting on.

Instead I find myself chained up against a wall, along with the others they’ve managed to find. I’m shocked to see Raven and Wick beside me. Both at the fact that she’s alive and that apparently these monsters have managed to capture her. They’ve strapped Ace to a metal slab in the middle of the room and the sharp screech of a bone drill cuts through his desperate screams of pain.

I try my best to swallow everything I feel and just make sense of what is happening here. A group of people is brought in, possibly more of our guys from the outside.

Someone gives the order to take off their hoods and my heart almost stops when I recognize the face of Monroe – we were so sure she was dead. I don’t get a chance to revel in as the next hood comes off and it’s, “Dad?” I don’t recognize my own voice. I can’t believe he’s really here. Alive.

He shouts my name, leaps forward in my direction and gets hit by a sickening blast to his head. I rage against the restraints, shout and kick without a conscious thought, but soon relent. There’s nothing I can do. Dr. Griffin and Kane are next and I feel my stomach drop and my body sags as if it was paralyzed.

I can only watch helplessly as the others are strung up on the wall beside us.

~

“He’s dead,” one of the gruff voices notes after the screaming has ceased. They’ve exploited Ace for all he had and just carelessly let his lifeless body slump to the floor. I want to throw up.

They choose Raven next and she puts up a serious struggle but they shock her into compliance and strap her to the table until she doesn’t even move anymore. Their sheer brutality is inconceivable. There is blood everywhere and the screech of the drills makes my teeth hurt. I can see Raven fighting to keep quiet and hold my breath until her high pitched scream echoes through the chamber.

I lock eyes with dad. I’ve never seen him this panicked. I can’t bear to watch him like that.

Harper has tears in her eyes. She’s been through this before and now she just looks like all the fight is leaving her body. I level my eyes to the floor and try to drown out the noise coming from Raven.

What we need now is a miracle. I’m still holding out hope for Jasper, Monty, Bellamy and Clarke. Neither of them has been brought in so they must be around somewhere, hopefully coming up with a plan to put an end to this.

“Put that one off the table,” a voice orders and I look up to see that the president’s son has entered the room. Well, actually  _ he _ is the president now.

The relief of Raven getting a break only lasts until they grab Dr. Griffin and put her on the slate. Kane makes a ruckus, trying to get them to stop. His pleas fall onto deaf ears even when he offers that we could donate our marrow for these monsters. As if anyone would volunteer now.

Cage seems very aware of that, too. The doc’s screams ring just as shrill as Raven’s.

I tug at the chains in vain – it’s an instinct I can’t suppress. Nobody pays me any mind, so I keep going just for the sake of doing _ something _ . I stop abruptly when I see a guard bringing in Jasper. Fuck.

They chain him up next to Harper, along with the rest of us. Or so it seems. When I look at him his hands are free and carry a sharp edged knife. He can’t expect that to be enough against an army of mountain men. We don’t get a chance to find out, though, because all of a sudden every single one of them save for Cage stops in their tracks and starts coughing and gasping for air.

Within seconds they begin to develop lesions and then they drop to the floor like dead flies.

If I didn’t know it was radiation we’re immune to I’d be scared. Instead I think that this is the miracle I’d been praying for. However they pulled this off, I’m sure it’s Clarke and Monty’s doing.

We remain in our unfortunate predicaments when Jasper runs off to find Maya. My gut is sinking at the implication that not just this room, but in fact the whole mountain might be contaminated. Maya. Dahlia. All of the other kids, and the innocent people who have helped us.

What I see when I look at the others is relief, but nobody smiles. It feels like forever until none other than Octavia barges into the dorm and starts to release our cuffs one by one.

When she finally gets to me I immediately scramble to get dad’s restraints off. All my coherence ceases to exist the moment he wraps his arms around me. I’m the 12 year old who just lost his mom, who clings to his dad like a lifeline. I think I’m crying. I couldn’t tell you for sure. My body feels numb in his arms as the weight of the past two months slips away.

~

The track back to our camp is long and mostly silent. So much has happened but I don’t feel like I can talk about anything just yet. I’m just quietly reveling in the weight of dad’s arm on my shoulder. He’s here, that’s all that matters. He’s alive and he’s come to take me home.

Wherever that is now.

~


End file.
